


A Brief History of Knitting

by soupytwist



Category: Firefly
Genre: First Kiss, Gen, Knitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2008-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupytwist/pseuds/soupytwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"You'd make adorable little baby booties or... gun cosies or something. Seriously, it'll be fun!"</i></p><p>written for Boxathon 2008, prompt "Wash teaches Zoe to knit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief History of Knitting

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to snoopypez and catwalksalone for beta above and beyond the call of duty. Love for them. Oh, and for my fellow knitting geeks: I think the yarn in this story is a future version of [](http:)this.

This side of Whittier Moon is in the middle of winter, so it's chill, and more than a little. Wash has actually knit himself a new sweater for the occasion, as it's his first cold-weather trip since joining Serenity, but it's not really doing him any good, because it's in his pack, and also he's currently tied to a chair with some of the extra-strength fibre cable they came for.

"It's one of those things, you know? Sweaters and scarves and gloves. They're kind of itchy right up until you don't have them. You ever notice that? And ooh, mittens! I made some really nice soft mittens once, ah, once... too bad it was the middle of summer on Trison and they went all bobbly." He wriggles a bit, looks hopefully at his rescuer. "You ever learn? I guess you probably didn't have time in the army..."

Zoe looks up from trying to free him and raises an eyebrow. She has really nice eyes, but he has a second of wishing she was still looking at the sharp, sharp knife currently being expertly wielded very near his skin. "Why?"

"I could teach you! It'll be great! You'd make adorable little baby booties or... gun cosies or something. Seriously, it'll be fun! Haven't you always wanted a gun cosy?" He pauses. "Okay, maybe not, but..."

"It occur to you that maybe there's better places for this conversation?" asks Zoe, cutting at a particularly tight knot.

"Hey, don't knock it; it's serving me well, right up to the getting-as-far-away-as-possible part, I hope." Wash grins as the final ropes come loose, shakes his arms to get the circulation going again, but of course that's the moment when the door explodes, some angry farmers with guns come pouring in, and it's time for the running and the screaming and the trying not to get shot.

*

A couple of hours hiding in a hayloft later, they're all back on Serenity for the usual post-imminent-death period of long, quiet travel through the black. Wash makes sure the course is steady, then looks out for a moment; a Captain who agreed that the stars were beautiful is one of the two main reasons he picked this boat, and not one of the fancy liners.

The other reason has the cabin next to his, so he gets his knitting bag and that's where he heads. He's always been an enjoy-the-moment kind of guy, and he's pretty sure a woman like Zoe is the sort of treasure you don't sit around waiting for. He really, really hopes she finds him charming and not annoying. It definitely seems more hopeful since she cornered him doing laundry and told him to get rid of the moustache. He resists the urge to scratch at his newly bare upper lip. Manly, attractive guys don't do that, or so he's been told.

"You lookin for something?" asks Zoe, from behind him.

He whirls round, beaming. "Yes! Uh... you, actually." He waves his knitting bag at her hopefully.

Zoe is good at not letting it show when something's getting to her, but Wash has gotten good at telling, and the slight shift in her shoulders and her hand gripping where her gun would usually be tells him that she's honest-to-God surprised. He loves that her voice is still steady as she asks "You're... going to teach me knitting?"

He mentally does a little dance. "Just like my mother taught me! ... well, my aunt, and I'm not that great at it. I tried to knit a sweater for my mother, once - she loved it, but she thought it was for the dog." Zoe now looks mostly amused, so he keeps going. "In my defence, the dog actually has pretty similar dimensions, just sideways." He pauses; realises they're climbing down into his cabin. Huh. "... also, I was eight."

The look of amusement in Zoe's brown eyes is unmistakeable now. Wash starts feeling pretty smug. However, he doesn't say so, both because he's not stupid and because she's taking the knitting bag out of his hands and looking into it expectantly. She pulls out the skein of yarn he'd brought, pauses. "Nice."

It's actually the best he's got – an expensive silk-mohair-wool blend he picked up on Sihnon, rich varied golden brown colours that reminded him of Zoe – but he doesn't tell her _that_, either. Instead, he pulls out a thin pair of sticks. "You'll need these, I think."

"I think so too. Lucky, that, huh?" She laughs; Wash immediately decides it's the best thing to have ever happened to his bunk, and laughs too.

"Yeah, you'll need 'em to make loops, and then you pull those through other loops. Look." He casts on a couple of stitches, making certain she can see the way the yarn wraps round to be pulled through the previous stitch, all kept in place by the needle.

He passes the needles and their small, preliminary stitches over to her. "It all comes from that – do that enough times and in the right order, and somebody could probably knit Government Hall... not that it'd last long, but you could try."

"That so? It'd take a while like this," she says, dryly – he's pleased to see she's concentrating, doing well. Her stitches are a bit tighter than his, but perfectly serviceable and surprisingly even.

"That's pretty good; all you need to know now is making a stitch backwards," he says. He leans in, makes a purl stitch while trying not to be too distracted by the warmth of her, the nearness of her hands. "If you pull the new loop through the previous one the opposite way, all kinds of exciting things happen."

"Exciting, huh?"

He grins. "Oh, you bet. It's fabric being made, right there!"

"Thrillin," she snorts, but she's smiling. The next hour goes past in a haze, and the little bit of newly knitted fabric gets bigger, stitch by stitch.

*  
The way Wash reckons it, the slightly terrifying aspects of living with people who can mostly kill him in his sleep are more than made up for by their other excellent qualities, like loyalty and being really ridiculously attractive. The cooking, however, not so much. So it was a relief to everyone that the new mechanic is not only less annoying and able to brighten things up a bit, but can even make up a decent meal out of dessicated vegetables and flavoured protein, too.

Kaylee is also the only other person on the ship who both approves of his 'Get Zoe And The Captain To Laugh More Than Once A Cycle' plan _and_ likes talking for talking's sake. Which would be why she is the person Wash thinks of to go to and gloat about how he's actually teaching Zoe to knit.

She doesn't disappoint, either.

"Aw, that's sweet!" she beams, in a way that makes Wash more than usually aware that his hopefully-secret passion for Zoe is... not so much secret. He grins, turns his face to one of the new flowers Kaylee's painted in the galley a bit.

"Nothin sweet about it," says Jayne, who is apparently nursing his own fondness for Kaylee by sharpening his knives at the kitchen table while she cooks. "My ma's always knitting me up things that're real practical."

"Well I call it all kindsa nice," says Kaylee. "I always liked those pretty lace patterns."

"You don't knit?" asks Wash in surprise.

"Oh no – momma tried to teach me but I never got the way of it. I like looking at the shawls in the market and all? But the way of doing it just never spoke to me." She smiles. "It's a shame, cause it's real useful, but I got my engines."

The Captain walks in, all leather boots and brown shirt. "That you do, young Kaylee. Now how long to Beaumonde?"

"Three days, if the adjustments hold true 'til Nearem - which they oughta since I only just made em," says Kaylee promptly.

"Excellent. Now then – dinner? And what's this babblin about shawls?" He sits down; Wash thinks he seems tired.

"Coming right up." Kaylee can't stop smiling again. "Oh, Cap'n – Wash here is teachin Zoe to knit! Now ain't that sweet?"

The Captain almost snickers. "That right? Zoe? Best stitcher in the 57th ? I'm a fair hand with a needle, but one of the men even commissioned Zoe to knit him things to order in her free time. She was better at the," he waves a hand, "fiddly bits, the shaping and cables and such."

Wash can feel his face fall. "Really."

"That's ri..." The Captain looks over the table at him, pauses. "That wasn't a joke."

Wash realises he's gripping the table much too tight, but can't seem to loosen his fingers. "Not so much, sir, no."

"Zoe-" begins the Captain, at the exact moment Kaylee starts with "Oh, Wash, I'm sure it's-"

Wash doesn't want to look at any of them again ever if he can help it; "I think I'm gonna... go and sit for a while," he says, and he gets up and walks out.

*

The trouble with trying to storm off in a cloud of hurt and confused while you happen to be on a spaceship is that there's just nowhere to go. Normally this doesn't bother Wash much, but when feeling like twelve shades of stupid, things...are different. He tries hiding in his bunk, but that's just depressing. He's pretty sure even his toys are mocking him. He thinks of the engine room, but he'd have to see people to get there, and also Kaylee'll have to do some actual work there soon.

Which leaves just one place: the cockpit. He goes in, shuts the door, then sits in the pilot's chair and stares at the stars.

Some time later – a minute or an hour, it's hard to tell – the door opens behind him and Zoe's calm, careful voice says, "Hey."

"Hey." He doesn't turn round, but he's not looking out any more. "Where are the others?"

"Dealt with. I got the Captain to keep Kaylee and Jayne out, so would you look at me?"

"I don't know, am I going to be telling you more things you already know?" he retorts, but he does turn round. Zoe steps further into the cockpit, looking honestly concerned. He's not sure what to make of that; but she _has_ kept everyone else out, and he appreciates that.

She comes a little closer and sighs. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"So what did you mean it like?" he asks, keeping his voice as even as possible

"I _meant_ it like... it was a nice gesture, and I didn't want to spoil it." He'd have sworn that Zoe almost looks like she wants to fidget; her hands are still, but she shifts a little."I haven't done that in a while."

"Um...knitting?"

Zoe gives him a look he can't quite decipher. "That too."

He blinks and leans forward, knocking a small plastic dinosaur off the side of the console. "No way, you mean-"

"Oh, gorrammit, Wash," says Zoe, and kisses him.

Wash is not a religious man: it takes about half a second for the _oh holy everything, this is actually happening!_ reaction to be superseded by an enthusiastic reciprocation. But Zoe is warm and alive in his arms, and when he finally opens his eyes, all he can see are stars.


End file.
